You see Donald's off in the back of the house re-arranging whole shelves of wretched, dusty books and he fancies that he must have my suggestions." "The door at the end of the hall!" she trilled in sweet but unmistakable dismissal, one arm pointing gracefully aloft from its enveloping foam of draperies, that same too-intense smile upon the Greek face that even Nancy, in moments of humane expansion, had admitted to be all but faultless.

And the latter, wondering not a little at the stiff disposition to have her quickly away, which she had somehow divined through all the gushing cordiality of Mrs.Wyeth's manner, went on upstairs.

As she rapped at Mrs.Eversley's door, the bell of the street door sounded in her ears.
Somewhat less than an hour after, she came softly out again, opening and closing the door noiselessly.

So effectually had she soothed the invalid, that the latter had fallen into a much-needed sleep, and Nancy, eager to escape to that mind-world where the happenings are so momentous and the silence is so tense, had crept like a mouse from the room.
At the top of the stairs she paused to gather up her skirts.

Then her ears seemed to catch the sound of voices on the floor below and she remained motionless for a second, listening.